


Six of Pentacles

by PostcardsfromTheoryland



Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [28]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bullying, Galaxy Garrison, Holidays, Kosmo is judgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23908402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostcardsfromTheoryland/pseuds/PostcardsfromTheoryland
Summary: The Six of Pentacles: Generosity, giving, kindnessWhen a storm interrupts Lance's plans to go home for the holiday, it's Kogane that offers him a place to celebrate.
Relationships: Adam & Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron)
Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686346
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79





	Six of Pentacles

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically set in the same AU that Six of Swords and Ten of Cups are, but could probably be read alone.

It started with a fluke November hurricane.

Everyone back home was fine, there’d been only minimal damage, but Miami and most of southern Florida, where Lance needed to go to get a connection into Havana, had been hit hard. All flights cancelled, and no way for Lance to get home. He was stuck here all alone at the Garrison during Thanksgiving. That was supposed to be like, the pinnacle of family togetherness meals, and Lance was going to have whatever shitty leftovers the cafeteria had on hand.

It wasn’t fair.

Lance’s moping was interrupted as he noticed someone walking past him as they left the on-base market, and he could at least take pride in the fact that Kogane didn’t have anywhere to go, either. He and Hunk had never seen Keith leave on the shuttles for the civilian airport for any breaks or holidays, and the fact that he was still on base meant he was stuck here, too. He’d probably just bought a can of soup to have for dinner, which made Lance’s plans look like a feast.

“Hey Kogane,” he called out, “looks like you don’t have anywhere to go for the holiday!”

“Is that an invitation?” he drawled back, all aloof and mightier-than-thou, and Lance was pissed and lonely and upset.

“Fuck you,” he snarled, and Keith actually stopped at that.

“Wow, ok. Someone woke up in a mood.”

“I’m supposed to be in Cuba right now,” Lance said angrily.

“I’m not stopping you.”

“Look, maybe it’s fine for you, Mr. Lone Wolf, but some of us have families we like to go to for holidays, and I can’t because there’s a fucking _hurricane_ so maybe just lay off.”

“Oh.” Kogane actually looked a little concerned. “Is your family ok?”

“They’re fine,” Lance sighed. “But the flights are all cancelled. I’m stuck here on base with the losers like you.”

Keith just stood there for a few moments, the bag dangling from his hand, before he sighed. “Um, listen. I know you don’t like me” (and wasn’t that an understatement) “but I live close by and...do you want to do Thanksgiving with my family?”

What the heck?

“Why?” Lance asked in suspicion. Who knew Keith even _had_ a family?

“I just know what it’s like, ok? To not have anyone to spend a holiday with. If you don’t want to you can say no and we’ll both be on our way, but you need to decide soon because I need to get home.”

Did Lance really want to spend a holiday with Keith Kogane and whatever kind of family had spawned him? No. But he wanted to spend a holiday alone even less.

“Ok.”

Keith looked surprised, but recovered pretty quickly. “Do you want to pack some stuff? We tend to do dinner pretty late, so my family might suggest you spend the night.

Lance ran upstairs into his dorm, threw a few random pieces of clothing and his toiletries into an overnight bag and came dashing down the stairs, halfway expecting that Keith would be gone by the time he got back. But he was still there, and when Lance walked up to him he started down the sidewalk toward the main road.

“Oh, are you good with dogs?”

“I’ve got cats at home but dogs are fine,” Lance said.

“That’s good. Kosmo gets really sad when we lock him up to have guests over.”

Lance could not believe it, this was _gold_. “You, a guy who is learning how to be a space pilot, named your dog _Kosmo_?”

“It was the name they gave him at the shelter,” Keith muttered. “I didn’t want to confuse him with a new name.”

Keith turned the corner at that, going away from the main road and toward the on-base housing, and suddenly a lot of things made sense.

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re a _brat_?!”

Keith stopped in his tracks, both arms coming up to cross in front of his chest and looking away from Lance. “I would...really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. I don’t want people thinking I’m getting special treatment just because of my family.”

“But you are.” _This_ was how Keith got to the top of the class, it _had_ to be. Stupid Garrison nepotism...

Keith sighed and shook his head. “No one else knows. I mean, Commander Holt knows, because we go to the Holts’ for Christmas and whenever Colleen thinks I’m not getting enough vegetables. And Lieutenant DeVry knows, because she’s the Dean’s assistant and sends out my mail and she can put two and two together, but no one else. I wanted to earn everything I got, you know?”

“Your parents obviously know!”

“Well, yeah, but they’re both hardasses with me anyways.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Lance said.

“Look, do you want to come to my place for Thanksgiving or don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just - you’re at the top of the class, you have been for years, don’t you wonder if it’s because of your family?”

“I’m good at what I do,” Keith said shortly, and they didn’t talk for the rest of the way there.

Keith took them up to the front door of a nondescript building that looked exactly the same as every other house on the entire block, and Lance had to wonder if Keith had ever tried to walk into the wrong house. The moment Keith opened the door he was bowled over by a large grey blur. ‘Kosmo,’ it turned out, was a great big husky, and as he licked Keith in the face, Lance was pretty sure it was the first time he’d ever heard Keith laugh.

“Get off, buddy, let me inside.” It seemed to work as an actual command, but when Kosmo stepped away and noticed Lance was there, he immediately started growling. “Hey, it’s ok,” Keith said, nudging him on the snout. “Drop it.” Kosmo did, traipsing back inside, but he kept looking over his shoulder at Lance like Lance had personally wronged him, and it was a weird look for a dog.

“Shoes off,” Keith murmured as they walked in. The entryway was pretty bare, and Lance was left looking at the shoes already lined up by the wall to try to figure out exactly who Keith’s parents were. There weren’t any Officer Koganes that Lance knew, so Keith must have had a different last name, but who could it possibly be?

“Keith, you’re home!” someone called out. And there, coming around the corner, was Takashi Friggin’ Shirogane. As he pulled Keith into a hug in the hallway, Lance was struck by how...different he looked. It wasn’t as if Lieutenant Shirogane was mean or disinterested at the Garrison, but he was always professional. The Shirogane at the Garrison looked in control, like he was ready to take command of a ship at any time, but the Shirogane here was open and carefree, his whole face lighting up at seeing his...brother? Lance was assuming?

“Ah, Shiro, could I talk to you about something really quick?” Keith whispered, and Shirogane’s gaze trailed up to where Lance was still removing his shoes by the door. The two of them looked at each other for several moments, Lance fighting the impulse to salute, and he watched the officer’s face switch back to that professional mask.

“Cadet,” Shirogane said in greeting. “Keith, what’s going on?”

“Did I hear that something is going on?” another voice said from around the corner, and Keith was suddenly making a very emphatic hand gesture at Shirogane, who turned around and tried to bar someone from entering the hallway with a really obviously fake-relaxed posture leaning against the wall.

“Nope, nothing going on yet,” Shirogane said, and Keith just sighed, his head in his hands.

“You are a horrible liar, Takashi.”

Lance was going to die, right here, because next to Shirogane in the hallway was Lieutenant Wasan. Who, upon noticing Lance by the door, decidedly _didn’t_ put on the professional Garrison face that Shirogane had.

“McClain,” he said, voice dripping with disdain.

Lance felt like he was going to throw up. He and Keith were both in Lieutenant Wasan’s physics class this term, and despite Hunk’s help Lance was in danger of failing it. Wasan seemed to ignore Keith’s “Golden Child” status, treating him just the same as any other student, so Lance figured he could take out his anger at Keith there and...get away with a few more things. More cutting insults if Keith happened to answer a question incorrectly, the occasional comment about how Keith probably cheated on his sim runs, and there had been a week straight where Lance managed to “accidentally” get gum in Keith’s hair after every class period.

But the whole time, he’d been doing all of that shit right in front of Keith’s _family_.

Fuck.

“I probably should have called first,” Keith broke the silence, a hand on the back of his neck, “but I sort of invited Lance to Thanksgiving?”

There was a lot of nonverbal back and forth, then, mostly Shirogane and Wasan trading expressions in lightning-quick succession, but every once in a while Keith would throw in an odd look or a vague hand gesture. These three clearly knew each other really well, and Lance realized guiltily that he’d never actually seen Keith be this expressive. At the Garrison he’d always been closed off and aloof, but seeing him at home was almost like a completely different person.

They’d apparently come to some agreement, because Wasan ruffled Keith’s hair and then turned to Lance.

“I’ll go prepare the guest room for you,” he said; he was smiling now, but there was something predatory and feral about it, and Lance had a feeling that didn’t bode well for him.

“I got the fish sauce,” Keith said, holding up his bag from the market, and then he and Shirogane went into what was presumably the kitchen.

Lance was left standing in the hallway with Kosmo, who was glaring at him with much more suspicion than Lance thought was fair for a dog to possess.

“What?” he asked. Kosmo didn’t respond.

“You can throw your stuff in my room for now while you wait for Adam,” Keith said over his shoulder, pointing at the closest door. Keith’s room was...surprisingly normal. Old Star Wars posters on the walls, comfy-looking bedding, a quite frankly adorable collection of hippos sitting on the dresser. Lance wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that.

When Lance wandered back into the main living space, Keith and Shirogane were at the kitchen counter. Shirogane was mixing something in a bowl and Keith was...was he fileting a fish?? Lance hovered awkwardly in the space between the kitchen and the living room, not entirely sure what he should be doing.

“First off,” Shirogane said, and it took Lance a moment to realize he was being addressed, “since we’re off base you can call me ‘Shiro.’ Second, do you have any dietary restrictions?”

“No, no,” Lance said. “Anything is fine.”

Keith and...Shiro (and God, that felt weird) laughed at that response for some reason.

“Good. The Wasan-Shirogane-Kogane Thanksgiving isn’t particularly traditional. The only thing we kept is the cranberry jelly, and that’s only because Sam will give us grief if we don’t. So, Keith’s about to make the branzino, I’ve got tabbouleh, there are blueberry muffins in the oven, Adam’s got tandoori chicken going out back, and we’re going to make ramen, too. Sound good?”

“Do you need any help?”

“Think we’ve got it covered,” Keith said, his hands now shoved inside the fish.

“Unless you want to add anything else to the menu?” Shiro asked.

While Lance wouldn’t have the time or the ingredients to make a lot of the Thanksgiving staples, there was one thing he could try. “Do you have some rice and a bunch of milk?”

Adam apparently kept the pantry well-stocked, and Lance found everything he needed to make his mama’s arroz con leche. He felt a little bit like an intruder, seeing Shiro and Keith working in the kitchen together, and he couldn’t help but be impressed when they started adding ingredients to the ramen broth without even measuring. He chanced a look over at them while Keith was waiting to take the fish out of the oven, to see Keith nudging Shiro’s side and Shiro answering with a one-armed hug, and Lance still wasn’t exactly sure how their family worked, but it felt a lot like home.

They’d somehow managed to have everything done at almost the exact same time, despite the disparity of the dishes, and though he felt out of place, Lance had to admit that this was a _much_ better option than sulking in his dorm room and having whatever leftovers the cafeteria could throw together for the people staying on campus. Somehow all three of them could actually cook, and cook well. Mama would be impressed.

He was pretty sure Shiro and Adam were holding hands under the table across from him, made even more sure when Keith kicked Adam under the table and told them to get a room, only for Adam to try to fling noodles at him across the table. Kosmo started howling toward the end of dinner, sick of waiting for his own food, and Keith and Shiro surprised him by immediately egging him on and howling back. Adam just sighed and kept on eating, so Lance was guessing this was a fairly normal occurrence for them.

Adam shooed Keith and Shiro away toward the living room when they made to start cleaning up, giving Lance a significant look instead, and Lance knew he’d been cornered for _A talk_.

Except Adam just kept up pleasant smalltalk while they washed and dried all the dishes. Where did he grow up, how did he like Cuba, how were his classes going. It kept Lance a bit on edge, and it wasn’t until all the dishes were put away and Adam offered to show him the guest room, the door closing with a foreboding snap, that Adam actually really looked at him, and oh boy here it came.

“You’re very popular, McClain,” Adam began, and he managed to make it sound like a bad thing

“I’m good at making friends. And Keith, uh, isn’t.”

“Isn’t he?” Adam asked, his voice suddenly much harder than Lance had been expecting. “Think of it from my angle. Incredibly popular, social butterfly kid starts taking shots at the best pilot in his class. Loud popular kid keeps on doing it, keeps on making top pilot a target for shitty, boyish pranks and comments that only get meaner as the years go by, and everyone else who’s friends with loud popular kid starts doing it too, and their friends, and top pilot closes himself off to stop from getting hurt, and suddenly, top pilot is a social pariah. You see where I’m going here?”

Lance had never thought of it that way before. He’d seen Keith as a target: a rival to take down, someone to lash out at when Iverson yelled at him for not doing something well enough, because Keith was untouchable. He’d sat at the top of the class for as long as they’d been at the Garrison, cold and detached from everyone around him. It didn’t matter if Lance was a jerk to him because it never affected Keith.

Didn’t it?

“Keith has gone through a lot of shit in his life, and I’m sure even now there are things I don’t know, but I do know he’s a better person than I am, because if I were in his place I never would have invited you here. I would have rubbed your loneliness in your face and sent you pictures of my family dinner throughout the evening. But Keith isn’t me; he invited you here and I’ll respect that and play nice. But know that the only reason you haven’t received any disciplinary action, at least from me, is that Keith asked me not to. But eventually, if you reach a point where I’m more concerned about Keith’s wellbeing than I am about going against his wishes, if you make him cry again, I will bring the full brunt of my authority against you. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Lance answered on instinct, too busy focusing on that last part.

_If you make him cry again…_

Adam left then, and Lance spent a few minutes gathering his thoughts. He’d built Keith up in his head as some all-powerful target to hit, but...he was just a kid, like Lance. A kid that liked Star Wars and talked to his dog in baby voices and hugged his brother while they cooked meals together.

Lance felt like a _dick_.

When he finally worked up the courage to go apologize, it was only Shiro sitting on the couch.

“Are you going to scold me, too?”

“Oh, no,” Shiro said easily. “I know Adam’s taken care of that. Keith is on the roof, if you’re looking for him.” Shiro nodded to the dropdown set of stairs in the corner of the room, and Lance trudged up the stairs to see Keith and Kosmo silhouetted against the night sky.

Lance wondered, with a guilty jolt, how many times Keith had done this exact same thing: sat on the roof to stargaze with his dog, while Lance and his friends were socializing, planning game nights and trips into town and more stupid pranks to play on Keith.

Keith really didn’t have any friends except for Katie Holt, and it was sort of Lance’s fault.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Keith waved him over while Kosmo sent him another glare, and for a few minutes, Lance just enjoyed the view.

“Um, thanks, for this,” Lance said eventually. “You trusted me with your family, even though I never really gave you a reason to.”

“I knew Adam would threaten you,” Keith shrugged, one hand reaching up to tickle Kosmo’s ear. “He wasn’t too harsh, was he? He can get sort of protective of me.”

“He was right. I have been a giant dick to you, and I owe you an apology. I...you’re always at the top, you know? And I sort of set you up as like, this target I had to reach, this rival I had to beat, and in the process I stopped treating you like an actual fellow student and I did and said some really awful things to you.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” Keith said.

Lance turned toward him, his arm out to shake. “Hi. I’m Lance McClain, I’m in the piloting track.”

But Keith just looked at him in concern. “I know?”

“No, no, I was hoping..maybe we could start over?”

Keith’s face cleared, and he smiled just a bit as he grasped Lance’s hand. “Keith Kogane, also in the piloting track.”

Kosmo reached over and put a paw on top of their hands for a shake, and Lance thought maybe at least one member of the family had forgiven him.

Which reminded him...

“Okay, this is probably going to be awkward, and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but why do you and Shiro have different last names?”

“Well, we’re not related. By blood, at any rate.”

And that...didn’t make sense. Lance _supposed_ genetics were weird enough that Adam and Keith could be brothers, or maybe half-brothers? Cousins?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Keith chuckled.

“No, I’m going to figure this out. What about your parents?”

“They’re downstairs, you must have just seen them,” Keith said, smirking at Lance, and this did not make sense.

“There is no way Shiro and Adam are your parents, they would have been, what, 11?”

“I’m adopted, Lance.”

And ohhhhhh that cleared a lot of stuff up.

“Shiro and Adam are basically my brothers, but you can’t adopt someone as anything other than your child, so legally, they’re my parents. It’s...a little new,” Keith admitted, the smile on his face softer than Lance could have imagined only a few hours ago. “It was my birthday present last month.”

“Oh,” was all Lance could say. “Did you know them for a long time before this?”

“They took me in about a year before I started at the Garrison. It was a little rough, at first, but we figured it out. Shiro and Adam, they’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but when I was younger? God, I would have _killed_ to have your life. A family that loves you, friends and popularity, you were living my dream. The foster system _sucks_ , Lance, it makes you feel like you’re nothing and I was in the system for seven years before I met Shiro and Adam, and all the shit you said to me was just…”

_Just a reminder_.

“I’m going to do better,” Lance promised.

He spent the night in their guest room and woke up to Adam making waffles, and he wasn’t going to admit it to Hunk but Adam made the best waffles. It was odd, to see Shiro, Adam, and Keith all in various “morning” stages, not put together like normal: Keith’s hair was a mess, Adam wore bunny slippers, and apparently Shiro was useless before about 3 cups of coffee.

They had leftovers for lunch and then Lance went back to his dorm; he didn’t want to intrude any longer than he had. They deserved to have their own family time without Lance fourth-wheeling them.

Come Monday, he started paying closer attention to Keith, and what he saw made him feel awful. Just in the span between first period and lunch, two people had tried to trip Keith, one had knocked his binders and papers out of his hands, and another had strongly implied Keith was paying the Garrison exorbitant amounts of money in order to fake his simulator scores. Keith took every single thing in stride, his calm exterior never wavering, and Lance realized that it wasn’t arrogance, it was _defense_. Keith knew that if he retaliated or acted like it affected him at all, it would only get worse.

Keith ate his lunch alone, everyday, since Katie Holt had a different lunch period this term, though now that he realized it, Adam and Shiro were always eating close enough that they could intervene if they needed.

Hunk looked at him a little strangely, but Lance was confident as he walked straight past their normal table and plopped his tray across from Keith. Keith jolted up at the intrusion, a suspicious question on his face, but Lance just started in on the conversation.

“Sorenson’s class today was a pain, wasn’t it?”

Keith nodded slowly, still clearly unsure about this turn of events, but thankfully Hunk took up the slack for him.

“You’re Keith, right? Hunk, I’m in the engineering program.”

“Right, I thought I recognized you. You helped develop that air circulation system that won last year’s Adaptability Contest, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Hunk said, looking pleased. “Also, what is that in your tupperware? It looks like little potato pancakes?”

“They’re aloo tikki,” Keith explained. “We had some leftover potatoes at home after Thanksgiving and my brother made some for my lunch. Do you...want to try one?”

They seemed to be getting along well enough, so Lance spared a glance at the couple eating lunch two tables over from them. Adam wasn’t quite glaring at him, one skeptical eyebrow raised in their direction, but Shiro was smiling into his soup.

It was a start.


End file.
